


remember me love

by FieldKit (SamMasterson)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, i'm already considering writing more chapters hfjskgh, just a chat about memories, like pretty much right after, set after the time case incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamMasterson/pseuds/FieldKit
Summary: why is the oil reservoir the best place to chat
Relationships: Brainstorm/Skids (Transformers), Chromedome/Rewind (mentioned)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	remember me love

“…What are you thinking about?”

Brainstorm kicked a pede through the ripples in the oil reservoir, being careful not to glance up at the way the reflected light played over Skids’s features. It shouldn’t matter if he did. Skids probably wouldn’t even see him looking, with the way he’d been single-mindedly tinkering with some puzzle or other for hours now.

After a minute, Brainstorm stretched and rocked back to lean on his hands, gaze still on the slow, viscous waves. “I’m thinking about how glad I am that Chromedome didn’t wipe his memories this time.”

Skids gave a soft, sympathetic huff. “I can imagine how badly that would have gone.”

“I don’t have to.” Brainstorm sunk further into his shoulders, his chin resting on his chest, as he considered spilling the secrets of one friend to another. “…Pivot – one of Chromedome’s Conjunx’s during the War – the report that he was killed in action was premature. He and Chromedome hadn’t bonded yet, though, so there was no way of knowing it was a mistake until…”

Skids’s hands were still, now, all of him quiet; although it seemed to Brainstorm that he could almost hear him thinking. “Until he finally did come back. And you had to tell him what happened, didn’t you.”

Brainstorm sighed. “He… I’d taken to warning any interested parties beforehand, whenever it looked like it was starting to get serious between them and Chromedome. Maybe it wasn’t my place, but I still did it. Because even though I love Chromedome and wouldn’t ever ruin anything for him on purpose, they deserved to know that if they didn’t make it, he’d just… forget them, in the end. Zero sum. So it wasn’t like Pivot was unprepared.”

But that didn’t mean anything when the look on his face had told Brainstorm just how devastated he’d been.

“Did Rewind know?” Skids asked, once the silence had begun to feel heavy.

“He figured it out on his own.” Brainstorm lifted a pede, idly watching the oil sluice through the edges and gaps of his armour. “But he did ask me to confirm it. He didn’t care. He was in love. Is still in love.” He leaned back further, on his elbows, and looked up at the reflected starlight dancing on the ceiling. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be forgotten, too.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the thought had plagued him more than usual since going back in time and failing to fix anything; it was only a matter of time before the question slipped out. And wouldn’t that be something, that Brainstorm would matter enough to Chromedome that his absence would be too painful to remember, and yet unimportant enough that the memory of his existence would be something to forget?

He’d tried, ever since he’d known Chromedome, to be visible to someone else, as well. Anyone else. To even be a footnote in the War; remembered for his achievements, if not for himself. Because when did you die, really? When your frame went grey, or when there was no-one left to remember who you were? He himself clung to the faces of the MTOs he’d woken up with, desperate to keep them alive when no-one else could or would. He blinked suddenly, realising his existence wasn’t the only one he’d nearly erased in his attempt to stop the War from ever happening.

Beside him, Skids put his puzzle away and stretched out on his side, facing Brainstorm and tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “I asked Perceptor if I knew you, Before.” Brainstorm could hear the capitalization, and his spark flipped. “I’d remembered you’d been one of the people to say everyone thought I was dead, and… I can’t just leave these things. I can’t. For the same reasons you try to convince Chromedome to keep remembering.”

Brainstorm looked over at him, finally, his expression careful. “What did he say?”

“That I did. That _we_ did, had both known each other.” Skids looked faintly upset, like it was a distress he had grown accustomed to holding back. “But I can’t remember. I want to. I want to remember everyone, everything. Getaway and I, we’re rebuilding things, but you…”

“I couldn’t tell you.” Brainstorm sat up suddenly, pulling his knees to his chest and barely managing to keep from hiding his face. “I’m sorry, I know I should have, but I couldn’t bear to see you look at me like Chromedome had looked at Pivot.” It had been in the worst way: annoyed, confused, and mildly patronizing.

“I wouldn’t.” Skids moved closer. “Stormy, you know I wouldn’t. I didn’t mean to forget. I didn’t want to.” He hesitated. “Were we…?”

“No. We hadn’t even considered it.” Brainstorm watched Skids’s doorwings droop in relief, and looked down. “Did… you didn’t want to be.”

Skids startled. “I wouldn’t know. I’m just glad that you – that I hadn’t forgotten a Conjunx. That I hadn’t left you alone like _that_.”

Oh. That was something else entirely, and Brainstorm felt a bit relieved himself. “You didn’t. I promise. We were just friends.” One-sided crushes weren’t something the oblivious party would even know to forget, after all.

Skids considered him for a long moment. “Not just. It was clearly important to you.” He sighed roughly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I asked Chromedome to sort me out. He says it’s all there, but he won’t show me.”

“Sounds like him,” Brainstorm said, bitterly.

“No, I – he can’t, would be more accurate. When I got hit with the nudge gun, my processor took the opportunity to bury something traumatic. It’s so much, he doesn’t think he can safely uncover any of it mechanically. It’ll cascade and surface all at once.”

Brainstorm had noticed how Skids had seemed somewhat unburdened since he’d returned from supposedly being dead. At least that part made sense, now. But he didn’t miss the crux of the issue that Skids darted around: that a memory cascade could influence other systems, and potentially cause a spark to gutter. “So you’re talking to Rung.”

“So I’m talking to Rung,” Skids agreed.

“Well.” Brainstorm let himself relax again, laying back down on his side to mirror Skids. “As long as I get to have an opinion… then I guess I’d rather be forgotten than risk somebody I – care about.”

Skids reached out between them, his expression earnest. “I’m going to remember, Stormy, I promise. And I won’t forget you again, not ever—”

“Hey, I know.” Brainstorm smiled beneath his mask, placing his hand over Skids’s. “Come on, I’m teasing. Besides, like you said, it’s not like you meant to forget.” He gave their hands a little squeeze. “Even if you never remember what happened before, the War is over. We have time now. Nothing’s stopping us from getting to know each other again.”


End file.
